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“Are we close to land?” Ace asked nonchalantly.
“Don’t be getting any ideas, boy! It’s a lot worse if you try to desert, and they have to bring you back. Then it’s the cat o’nine tails across the back, and half rations for a month at least. But to answer your question, yes, we’re right off Worthington.”
The old fellow said, “First, they waited for some lord or dignitary to get rowed out so he could board the ship late. That was the first night we got here. I heard them piping the dignitary aboard.
“Now we’re waiting for the tide to turn. Once it does, we can get moving and get out of this damned brig.”
* * *
A few hours later, Ace heard what sounded like the ship’s massive anchor being raised. “Thank the Lord—we should be out of this pigpen pretty soon. If the tide favors us,” the scarred fellow said.
Sure enough, within an hour,The Valiantwas moving briskly toward deeper waters, the wind in her sails. A sailor came and unlocked the brig. “Come on, lads. You’re sailors now. I’ll show you where you’re to bunk, and then the Lieutenant will ask you what skills you have that will serve the Navy.”
The bunks and hammocks were below deck, where the air was fetid and stank of sweating, unwashed men. “Are all the bunks down here?” Ace asked a sailor.
“Well, all but a few. The Captain and the Lieutenant each have their own private quarters, of course. And then the really skilled men—the ones who climb the riggings and handle the sails—battle it out for better spots, on deck or up where they climb. Not so comfortable if you’re dealing with England’s weather. But as we head south and the temperatures rise, the outdoor sleeping berths are prized, believe me.”
“Thank you for explaining,” Ace said. He was about to offer his hand and introduce himself, but just then, a loud voice yelled, “All new recruits on deck! Lieutenant wants to see ye!”
* * *
Ace saw the Captain when he first went on deck. The man was beefy and red-faced. He clearly took himself and his role as ship’s commander very seriously—although it seemed likely he must eat and drink at least double his rations. He impressed Ace as a martinet and a buffoon.
The Lieutenant was another breed of man entirely. Tall, thin and dark, with a handsome, intelligent face and a measured manner of speech, the young officer seemed like someone who could have been Ace’s friend, had they met under different circumstances.
“I can read, write and cipher, sir,” Ace said respectfully, when asked of his skills. “I also box as a professional sport, and I make my living that way.”
“Really?” The Lieutenant looked at him with interest. “I had heard that pugilism had become very popular in England, in the years I’ve been away. I wrestled as an amateur at university, but that’s a very different sport.”
“Many similar principles at work, sir.”
“Indeed. We must talk more about it some time. Meanwhile, should we get into an affray, I will count on you to hold your own and then some!”
“Of course, sir,” Ace replied smartly.
“As to the book learning—how did you come by it? You sound like a Londoner.”
By which he means I sound lower class.“The local vicar took an interest in me when I was a lad. Gave me some tutoring.”
“Well, few of the common sailors can read or write. You may be able to assist me during the voyage, taking notes and the like.”
“Glad to oblige, sir. Might I ask where we’re bound?”
“A long trip. A few stops along the way—Calais, then Lisbon, then the Azores. Then across the Atlantic to the New World. The West Indies.”
“Exciting, sir,” said Ace dutifully. He felt sorry that he was deceiving the friendly Lieutenant. But Ace had no intention of crossing the Atlantic.
I have to get back to Josie. First stop we make, I must escape. Perhaps I can take her away to Madame Vallencourt’s cottage...she’s of age, she can marry without His Grace’s permission…once we’re wed, there’s nothing anyone can do to separate us….
* * *
The moon was bright when they made their first stop at the Port of Calais. Too bright for Ace’s liking. He had hoped for a dark, cloudy night to aid him in escaping from the ship.
Hiding in the bottom of a longboat, he waited for the watch to pass. There. It would take them twenty minutes to walk the circumference of the ship and return. He had twenty minutes to make his escape.
It would be a steep drop from the longboat to the lower deck. He gauged the distance. He could make it. Then into the water—an easy swim, for he could see the docks even from here.
Keeping low, Ace half climbed, half rolled his way out of the longboat. Then he felt the cold steel of a musket against his temple. “I always keep an eye on new recruits at their first few ports of call. Hands in the air, please.” It was the Lieutenant.
